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“Thank you,” I sign, but my eyes aren’t on him as they usually would be. They’re on the ground, dragging my heart behind me.
Every step I take toward Henry’s apartment feels like death. Like a black cloud gathering above my head, descending in a thick plague. Choking out every inch of light.
Is it afternoon? I can’t tell. Feels like it’s two a.m. Feels like the time when evil happens.
I knock on the door.
It opens and my best friend is there, staring at me with mournful eyes.
There was a tiny, stupid part of me that hoped I’d be wrong. The way wives who’ve been gathering their husband’s hotel stubs, checking his phone every night and tracking his car movements still have a foolish hope that when they talk to their partner, there will be an explanation that makes everything go away.
But Henry doesn’t give me the opportunity to foolishly believe in him.
Doesn’t even try.
Guilt is all over his face, making his eyes look sunken in, making his shoulders slouch, making his steps sluggish.
A lump of pain fills my throat.
“Why?” I sign as my eyes prickle with tears.
His bottom lip trembles. The red veins in his eyes stand out against the glassy coat of tears. His Adam’s apple bobs with every harsh, tortured swallow.
“Why would you do that to me?” My heart thunders as I sign with bigger and bigger movements, hands taking up all the space in the doorway. “I’m trying to help you. I’m doing everything I canfor youand you’re just hurting me more.”
The first tear slips out of his eyes. It tortures me to see him in so much pain. Even after what he’s done. Why do I have to be such an idiot? Why do I have to love people so fiercely that, even when they impale me with their swords, I still feel loyal to them?
My chest pumps up and down.
The current of anger streaming through the air rises the longer he takes to answer. The silence gives room for resentment to grow. For anger to gain a foothold.
I wave aggressively so he looks up. “Answer me!”
“I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Henry signs. His movements are broken, defeated. He still can’t look straight at me.
A bewildered snort builds in my head. I’ve been blindsided. This plot twist is so ridiculous, so painful, that I want to shake my fist at the skies. It could be anyone,anyone, but it can’t be Henry. Not my best friend.
It takes a couple breaths before I’m back in control of myself.
Resigned, I sign to Henry, “What do you want?”
His eyebrows twitch upward.
“What could you possibly want to have stabbed me in the back like this?”
“I was just trying to help you fix it.”
That stops me in my tracks. I stare at him, disbelieving.
With a shaky exhale, I take out my phone and show him some of the comments that people are leaving online.
You are a scam. Are you even deaf? Being deaf is not an excuse to hurt people.
Henry flinches as he reads.
“That’s what people are saying about me.” I step closer, my lips so stiff I could probably break a concrete wall if I kiss it. “If this is the way you fix things, I don’t want to see what happens when you try to break something.” I smile darkly. “Oh wait. I’ve seen that already.”
Henry flares his nostrils. I notice his fingers digging into the doorway. He’s not going to sign.
